Post by Arlen Shipwright on May 13, 2016 12:00:14 GMT -6
Arlen Shipwright
Nicknames - Captain (to everyone except Jes), Arlen (Jes only)
Gender - Male
Race - Shroudling
Age - 32
Height - 6’1”
Skin Color - Tan skin, weathered from years spent out on salt water.
Weight - 180 lbs
Eye Color - Purple
Hair Color - Black
Bust - Smaller than Jes’
Starting Location - TBD
Racials
*Unshackled- Gain an extra 10% Valor and Reputation
*Memories of Arcane- 5% off on modifying spells
*Ancestor's Will- Starts off with two Novice spell types
*Masters Call- Starts off with an additional weapon at Novice rank
-Appearance-
-Character description-
Arlen is quiet and serious, preferring to let his actions speak for him. He’s believes in karma and fairness above all, believing good deeds don’t wash out a lifetime of bad. That said he shows incredible amounts of loyalty for those he cares about, mostly his crew and his first Jeska. Willing to die for his crew if needed, but feels saying that is overly dramatic bullshit, find a way to live not an excuse to die. Jeska is the only one left who really knows Arlen and thus he lets her get away with murder. Things he would even have members of his own crew whipped for she can do daily without any more repercussion than an eye roll and a disapproving glare. Arlen has been seen dragging Jeska out of portside bars before she got outnumbered enough to get seriously hurt or worse arrested. Despite his serious nature Arlen loves good ale, good women, and a good fight, not necessarily in that order….mostly in that order. Above all else Arlen holds a deep abiding hatred for slavers and will go out of his way to kill, maim or in anyway possible hurt anyone associated with the slave trade.
-Background-
Born into slavery Arlen’s first memory is of his childhood friend being whipped to death for playing with his former master’s son. The son fell and skinned his knee climbing a tree with the slave boy. Knowing he wasn’t supposed to be climbing, the master’s son claimed the boy chased him up the tree and the slave was killed despite screaming his innocence with his dying breathe. From that moment on Arlen knew it was freedom or death.
When he was 10 years old he began training with his master’s house guard, being a Shroudling his reflexes where still quicker than that of most normal humans and under severe beatings some Shroudlings had even been known to snap and showcase the Arcane skills that made the Gracelings so sought after as slaves. Those slaves who showed skills were immediately taken away and never heard from again, but rumors had them being sold for exorbitant prices at secret markets.
When Arlen was 13 his master broke every finger on his left hand one at a time in hopes of making Arlen snap into powers. And much to both their surprise it worked. Without thought Arlen shaped his master’s water into a whip which he tried to lash out with before the pain from his hand overcame him.
His master’s guard captain a man who had trained Arlen for most of his life, grabbed him and pulled him away to prepare for the secret market. Believing Arlen in too much pain to need much restraint the man’s grip was loose and in a fit of desperation Arlen threw himself into a river knowing the current was more than a match for his swimming ability. Even death was better than being someone else’s tamed pet elf.
Once again to his shock his Graceling heritage saved him, as his arms finally gave out and his head slipped under the river water he took his first breathe only to find he didn’t drown. He sure as hell didn’t swim either as the current whipped his shocked brain into a rock and promptly knocked him out. Hours or maybe days later (he was unconscious how was he supposed to know how long) he finally floated up to the shore and dragged himself to relative safety. He knew the water had saved him, freed him. He didn’t know how but from that day on he learned to love the water eventually leading him to a life of piracy.
Arlen spent the next few years jumping from ship to ship apprenticing himself in every port he could find. His training with a blade made him a welcome hand on any ship leaving port and his willingness to learn quickly catapulted him up the ranks of various crews. Finally he had found a home he loved on the oceans. Once on a ship he was free from everything, free to go wherever the wind took him at any given moment. Life was good.
Till the day they made port in some worthless insignificant city. Their last raid had been costly in crewmates but the prize had been worth it. Enough silver to let them sail for months with no one to answer to but the wind and the seas...if they could just find the men willing to man the oars. His captain had different ideas however about the word willing.
With a bag full of silver his current captain, a man named Lancel had the nerve to explain to Arlen why he could just BUY replacement crew. To offer to chain them to the oars. He was going to take the freedom the sea gave and make it just another prison. Arlen never consciously made the decision but before anyone could stop him his sword shone red with Lancel’s blood and his former captain’s body was hitting the water on the side of the boat.
There was a moment of stunned silence from the crew and Arlen knew he had to act as panic set in. The world had never been kind to mutineers and he had just killed Lancel in cold blood.
“As long as I lead, no member of my ship will ever wear chains except those of gold.” he said looking around meeting the eyes of everyone and no one, his head high. If he was to die he had taken out a slaver as his last act. Arlen could make peace with that.
Instead one of the women, Rai shouted down from the rigging. “We still need people for the oars before we can leave port again Captain.” and with those words a spell was broken and the crew erupted into the noise that always came with making port in a new city a few members hurrying by nodding and greeting him as Captain as they passed.
Once in port Arlen hopped the side with his share of silver, he gave orders for his crew to hit every dive bar they could find and offer insanely high wages for new crewmates. Anything to get him back out into the ocean as fast as possible no matter the cost. Following his nose he stumbled upon the center market where men, women and children were kept penned up in cages like animals. Bile rose in the back of his throat. He walked through the cages making eye contact with each person he saw, and to a man each one backed away in fear, unable to meet his gaze, or with tears of terror streaming down their face. All save one. A tall lithe girl glared back at him in defiance spitting at his feet.
The act was so foolhardy it brought a smile to his face even amid the cages. Wordlessly he pulled his sword and cut open the lock that held the girl’s pen closed. Meeting his eyes she said two words to Arlen “Never again.” and Arlen understood more than the wretched slave could ever know at that moment. From that day on Jeska was his. He didn’t own her, Gods above and below knows she had done enough to frustrate him, but every time Arlen feels his temper rising,that his first mate stole the girl he had been talking to all night, or hijacked the whiskey he had been saving for a special occasion in his quarters to celebrate “that it was a Tuesday” Arlen remembers the girl in the pen. The defiance to spit in the face of the man who could kill her on a whim for all she knew.
Over the next few years what was originally a grim respect became trust, then eventually friendship. Various members of his original crew came and went taking jobs on other ships or dying in the blue until nothing remained of the crew he had stolen from Lancel. But always Jeska stayed.
Five years passed and two things remained constant in Arlen’s life, the ocean and Jeska, though both had one hell of a temper and were likely to see you dead if you didn’t respect them.
Unfortunately, a ship does not pay for itself and now Arlen’s ship the SS Popo needs of repairs that have left him land bound till further notice. This reality has landed the ship and its crew in a port on the Garnet Coast for the time being, but as soon as the vessel is ready to sail, Arlen knows will feel the the freedom that only the sea can bring.
-Languages-
Common
-Armor-
At the moment Arlen has light leather armor that will protect him from some slashes and light blunt damage but not much. The armor is extremely easy to take off as the sea is unforgiving and any man caught in heavy armor is utterly at its mercy if they’re unlucky enough to fall overboard.
-Weapons-
Legionary’s Blade (one handed) - Arlen’s primary weapon is a short straight sword he was trained to fight with as a boy. The sword type is common among the legion, house guard, and duelists for its brutal efficiency. While relatively ordinary looking the hilt of Arlen’s sword is fine silver, and both the hilt and the scabbard have a heron worked into them in thin gold, the mark of a sword given to a blade master. There are dozens of stories of how Arlen got this sword. One says when he was first freed he trained for years at a duelist school and earned the sword from a renown master, another has him beating a famed blade master in single combat and took the sword as a prize. Jeska when far gone in her cup one night even told a story about how Arlen had corned a blademaster and demanded the sword or else. When the man refused he pulled out two hand held crossbows, pointing one at the man’s head, and the second at the man’s groin and offered him the choice again knowing his sword could only stop one bolt at most, but most assumed the girl was up to no good and just enjoyed spreading rumors about the Captain knowing she could get away with it.
Compact CrossBow(bow)- A single handed crossbow, small enough to fire with one hand alone this weapon lacks the power and range of its older brothers but makes up for the fact with quick reload times. Fires 2 times the normal amount of shots than a normal bow in a single post but lacks power unless within close range (<40 feet).
Throwing Blades(daggers)- An odd assortment of small blades which are well weighted as to be thrown some distances. The blades hidden up the Captain’s sleeves are fairly ordinary except for a relatively weak enchantment on them, no matter how they are thrown they will always strike point first.
Short Sword- Expert
Bows- Expert
Daggers- Journeyman
Unarmed- Novice
Journeyman Skills
-Spells-
Evocation
Water- Expert
Air- Journeyman
Nicknames - Captain (to everyone except Jes), Arlen (Jes only)
Gender - Male
Race - Shroudling
Age - 32
Height - 6’1”
Skin Color - Tan skin, weathered from years spent out on salt water.
Weight - 180 lbs
Eye Color - Purple
Hair Color - Black
Bust - Smaller than Jes’
Starting Location - TBD
Racials
*Unshackled- Gain an extra 10% Valor and Reputation
*Memories of Arcane- 5% off on modifying spells
*Ancestor's Will- Starts off with two Novice spell types
*Masters Call- Starts off with an additional weapon at Novice rank
-Appearance-
-Character description-
Arlen is quiet and serious, preferring to let his actions speak for him. He’s believes in karma and fairness above all, believing good deeds don’t wash out a lifetime of bad. That said he shows incredible amounts of loyalty for those he cares about, mostly his crew and his first Jeska. Willing to die for his crew if needed, but feels saying that is overly dramatic bullshit, find a way to live not an excuse to die. Jeska is the only one left who really knows Arlen and thus he lets her get away with murder. Things he would even have members of his own crew whipped for she can do daily without any more repercussion than an eye roll and a disapproving glare. Arlen has been seen dragging Jeska out of portside bars before she got outnumbered enough to get seriously hurt or worse arrested. Despite his serious nature Arlen loves good ale, good women, and a good fight, not necessarily in that order….mostly in that order. Above all else Arlen holds a deep abiding hatred for slavers and will go out of his way to kill, maim or in anyway possible hurt anyone associated with the slave trade.
-Background-
Born into slavery Arlen’s first memory is of his childhood friend being whipped to death for playing with his former master’s son. The son fell and skinned his knee climbing a tree with the slave boy. Knowing he wasn’t supposed to be climbing, the master’s son claimed the boy chased him up the tree and the slave was killed despite screaming his innocence with his dying breathe. From that moment on Arlen knew it was freedom or death.
When he was 10 years old he began training with his master’s house guard, being a Shroudling his reflexes where still quicker than that of most normal humans and under severe beatings some Shroudlings had even been known to snap and showcase the Arcane skills that made the Gracelings so sought after as slaves. Those slaves who showed skills were immediately taken away and never heard from again, but rumors had them being sold for exorbitant prices at secret markets.
When Arlen was 13 his master broke every finger on his left hand one at a time in hopes of making Arlen snap into powers. And much to both their surprise it worked. Without thought Arlen shaped his master’s water into a whip which he tried to lash out with before the pain from his hand overcame him.
His master’s guard captain a man who had trained Arlen for most of his life, grabbed him and pulled him away to prepare for the secret market. Believing Arlen in too much pain to need much restraint the man’s grip was loose and in a fit of desperation Arlen threw himself into a river knowing the current was more than a match for his swimming ability. Even death was better than being someone else’s tamed pet elf.
Once again to his shock his Graceling heritage saved him, as his arms finally gave out and his head slipped under the river water he took his first breathe only to find he didn’t drown. He sure as hell didn’t swim either as the current whipped his shocked brain into a rock and promptly knocked him out. Hours or maybe days later (he was unconscious how was he supposed to know how long) he finally floated up to the shore and dragged himself to relative safety. He knew the water had saved him, freed him. He didn’t know how but from that day on he learned to love the water eventually leading him to a life of piracy.
Arlen spent the next few years jumping from ship to ship apprenticing himself in every port he could find. His training with a blade made him a welcome hand on any ship leaving port and his willingness to learn quickly catapulted him up the ranks of various crews. Finally he had found a home he loved on the oceans. Once on a ship he was free from everything, free to go wherever the wind took him at any given moment. Life was good.
Till the day they made port in some worthless insignificant city. Their last raid had been costly in crewmates but the prize had been worth it. Enough silver to let them sail for months with no one to answer to but the wind and the seas...if they could just find the men willing to man the oars. His captain had different ideas however about the word willing.
With a bag full of silver his current captain, a man named Lancel had the nerve to explain to Arlen why he could just BUY replacement crew. To offer to chain them to the oars. He was going to take the freedom the sea gave and make it just another prison. Arlen never consciously made the decision but before anyone could stop him his sword shone red with Lancel’s blood and his former captain’s body was hitting the water on the side of the boat.
There was a moment of stunned silence from the crew and Arlen knew he had to act as panic set in. The world had never been kind to mutineers and he had just killed Lancel in cold blood.
“As long as I lead, no member of my ship will ever wear chains except those of gold.” he said looking around meeting the eyes of everyone and no one, his head high. If he was to die he had taken out a slaver as his last act. Arlen could make peace with that.
Instead one of the women, Rai shouted down from the rigging. “We still need people for the oars before we can leave port again Captain.” and with those words a spell was broken and the crew erupted into the noise that always came with making port in a new city a few members hurrying by nodding and greeting him as Captain as they passed.
Once in port Arlen hopped the side with his share of silver, he gave orders for his crew to hit every dive bar they could find and offer insanely high wages for new crewmates. Anything to get him back out into the ocean as fast as possible no matter the cost. Following his nose he stumbled upon the center market where men, women and children were kept penned up in cages like animals. Bile rose in the back of his throat. He walked through the cages making eye contact with each person he saw, and to a man each one backed away in fear, unable to meet his gaze, or with tears of terror streaming down their face. All save one. A tall lithe girl glared back at him in defiance spitting at his feet.
The act was so foolhardy it brought a smile to his face even amid the cages. Wordlessly he pulled his sword and cut open the lock that held the girl’s pen closed. Meeting his eyes she said two words to Arlen “Never again.” and Arlen understood more than the wretched slave could ever know at that moment. From that day on Jeska was his. He didn’t own her, Gods above and below knows she had done enough to frustrate him, but every time Arlen feels his temper rising,that his first mate stole the girl he had been talking to all night, or hijacked the whiskey he had been saving for a special occasion in his quarters to celebrate “that it was a Tuesday” Arlen remembers the girl in the pen. The defiance to spit in the face of the man who could kill her on a whim for all she knew.
Over the next few years what was originally a grim respect became trust, then eventually friendship. Various members of his original crew came and went taking jobs on other ships or dying in the blue until nothing remained of the crew he had stolen from Lancel. But always Jeska stayed.
Five years passed and two things remained constant in Arlen’s life, the ocean and Jeska, though both had one hell of a temper and were likely to see you dead if you didn’t respect them.
Unfortunately, a ship does not pay for itself and now Arlen’s ship the SS Popo needs of repairs that have left him land bound till further notice. This reality has landed the ship and its crew in a port on the Garnet Coast for the time being, but as soon as the vessel is ready to sail, Arlen knows will feel the the freedom that only the sea can bring.
-Languages-
Common
-Armor-
At the moment Arlen has light leather armor that will protect him from some slashes and light blunt damage but not much. The armor is extremely easy to take off as the sea is unforgiving and any man caught in heavy armor is utterly at its mercy if they’re unlucky enough to fall overboard.
-Weapons-
Legionary’s Blade (one handed) - Arlen’s primary weapon is a short straight sword he was trained to fight with as a boy. The sword type is common among the legion, house guard, and duelists for its brutal efficiency. While relatively ordinary looking the hilt of Arlen’s sword is fine silver, and both the hilt and the scabbard have a heron worked into them in thin gold, the mark of a sword given to a blade master. There are dozens of stories of how Arlen got this sword. One says when he was first freed he trained for years at a duelist school and earned the sword from a renown master, another has him beating a famed blade master in single combat and took the sword as a prize. Jeska when far gone in her cup one night even told a story about how Arlen had corned a blademaster and demanded the sword or else. When the man refused he pulled out two hand held crossbows, pointing one at the man’s head, and the second at the man’s groin and offered him the choice again knowing his sword could only stop one bolt at most, but most assumed the girl was up to no good and just enjoyed spreading rumors about the Captain knowing she could get away with it.
Compact CrossBow(bow)- A single handed crossbow, small enough to fire with one hand alone this weapon lacks the power and range of its older brothers but makes up for the fact with quick reload times. Fires 2 times the normal amount of shots than a normal bow in a single post but lacks power unless within close range (<40 feet).
Throwing Blades(daggers)- An odd assortment of small blades which are well weighted as to be thrown some distances. The blades hidden up the Captain’s sleeves are fairly ordinary except for a relatively weak enchantment on them, no matter how they are thrown they will always strike point first.
Short Sword- Expert
Bows- Expert
Daggers- Journeyman
Unarmed- Novice
Journeyman Skills
-Spells-
Evocation
Water- Expert
Air- Journeyman